


Her Most Favored Servant

by LymneirianApparition



Category: The Arcana (Visual Novel)
Genre: Blow Jobs, Cheating, Creampie, Cunnilingus, F/M, Fluff and Smut, Foot Fetish, Foot Jobs, Foot Massage, Penis Size, Rough Sex, Vaginal Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-03-02
Updated: 2019-03-02
Packaged: 2019-11-08 00:01:10
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,153
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17970572
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LymneirianApparition/pseuds/LymneirianApparition
Summary: Nadia's endless flirting leaves the Apprentice constantly sexually aroused. Her constant demands leave the servant Portia's feet constantly aching. So it seems that the Apprentice and Portia have a way to help each other...





	Her Most Favored Servant

It has been yet another day spent in the palace with Nadia, the Countess of Vesuvia at my side. She retained my services some days ago to help apprehend the murderer of her late husband. But it feels like I am becoming more a companion to her than anything. We do talk of apprehending Julian Devorak. We investigate what scant leads there are. We talk of the Countess’s troubling prophetic dreams and the headaches that vex her so. But she seems neither alarmed nor rushed, and I feel that she is enjoying her time with me and clearly not wanting it to end. 

I must admit I am feeling the same way. But the Countess is an undisputable champion at the art of the chase. She flirts so skillfully, teases me so well, and ever since I have made her acquaintance it seems I have spent every waking hour in some degree of sexual arousal. It is torment, but a sweet one. I desire my Countess, but she never grants me fulfillment. For all the cuddling and sly, stolen kisses, she denies me the full comforts of her flesh. And I don’t even care that I am denied. It is a chase that makes me want to chase her ever more. 

But that doesn’t mean the distraction is easy to live with. I’m even starting to look at Portia, the Countess’s ever-present maidservant with longing. The fact that Portia sees the chemistry between me and Nadia quite clearly and flirts with and teases me about it in turn does not help. And I’ll be honest, if I were to describe the type of girl I usually go for, a small, slightly-plump, down-to-earth girl like Portia is what I’d probably come up with. And yes, she’d have beautiful ginger hair like Portia too. Tall, majestic women like Nadia normally aren’t my type, but with her sheer charisma, how can I resist? So that is how I spend my days: caught between the kind of woman I’ve always gone for and the one who has drawn me to her. 

As I have said, the torment has been sweet. But it is torment none the less. Now, another day of it is ending as I stand before the Countess’s room, holding her soft, supple hands and looking into her large, scarlet eyes. We are waiting for Portia to finish tidying the Countess’s room for her to retire, and in those minutes I endure her smile, her soft words, her light kisses. I don’t want this moment to end. I also want a million moments alone with her in the room Portia is preparing. 

But then Portia emerges. It has been a long day and Nadia has had many commands for her. The little maidservant is visibly tired. But she doesn’t let it show in her merry voice. “My Lady’s bed is prepared, pillows extra fluffy as requested.” 

Nadia withdraws her fingertips from my cheek, and I keenly feel their sudden absence. She turns to her servant. “Thank you ever so very much, Portia. I would be lost without you.” 

“It is my pleasure, My Lady.” 

“That is kind of you to say, Portia. But I know I have made you work very hard today and you are very tired. You are relieved. My sweet Magician, would you be so kind as to escort dear Portia back to her cottage? As exhausted as I am, I know she must feel it so much more and I will rest more easily knowing she is in your hands.” 

For emphasis, she take both my hands and leans close to whisper. Her breath tickles my inner ear. “Care for her as you would for me. Give her anything she wants. She is, after all, my most favored servant.” 

She kisses me chastely upon my mouth and pulls away with a look full of meaning that I cannot discern. Then she bids me goodnight and withdraws into her bedchamber. “Well,” Portia says as I gaze longingly after the departed Nadia. “It looks like you’re walking me back to my cottage. Shall we?” 

The cool evening air of the palace grounds does little to alleviate the lust that appears to be my perpetual curse now, but I’m welcome for any bit of relief that I can get. Perhaps the relief would be more if Portia wasn’t beside me. She is so attractive. The energy she gives off alone makes her desirable. I wonder if she even knows? It’s certainly not my place to tell her. 

“There it is,” she announces just as her cottage comes into sight. “I don’t know why Nadia insisted that you walk me here. I mean, it’s on the palace grounds: the safest place in Vesuvia, and I’ve made the walk by myself probably thousands of times before tonight.” 

“You’ve been in the service of the Countess for that long?” 

“Yeah. I needed a job when I got to Vesuvia, and the palace was hiring. Of course, I didn’t know at the time that it wasn’t just going to be a job, but a lifestyle.” 

“Portia, you know Nadia very well, right?” 

She smiles over at me. “I’d like to think so. Don’t tell her I said this, but I feel like I’m the closest thing to a girlfriend that she has and she tends to treat me as such.” 

“Yes…” I think back to Nadia’s words: _care for her as you would for me…_ “Tell me, is she always so… mercurial?” 

Now Portia’s smile becomes a grin. “You mean is she always such a cock-tease?” 

I, of course, am aghast with no way to conceal how that was exactly what I meant. But Portia finds my consternation adorable. “It’s okay. You didn’t say it, I said it. And yes, that’s totally what she’s being. I don’t know if she’s _always_ like that, though. I mean, you are the first man she’s shown an interest in since Count Lucio died. And as for the Count, well, let’s just say that she and him were already at the ‘separate beds’ stage of their marriage before I came on the scene.” 

“Yeah.” 

There’s no elegant way to pursue this and I think Portia might be getting too much of a kick out of it, so I say nothing more. I begin to make my polite farewell as we reach the door to her cottage, but Portia forstalls me. 

“Actually, would you like to come in, kick back, and have a beer? You probably need one as much as I do, albeit for different reasons. Wait… Do magicians drink beer?” 

“What? Of course magicians drink beer. Why wouldn’t we drink beer?” 

”I dunno. Beer seems like such a normal drink and magicians are special. I always imagined that instead of kicking back with a beer in the evening, you guys meditate and drink elixirs that make you see incredible, mystical things." 

“Actually, I think that’s exactly what beer is.” 

Portia giggles brushes her fingers across my chest in a gesture fit for the Countess herself. There is no way I’m getting out of having a beer now. 

My plan is to drink a beer and leave. Maybe not even a whole one. But it’s hard to want to once I am sitting on Portia’s bed that doubles as her couch. Piles of pillows make it possible to use it as such. Nadia seems not to be the only one around here who likes her pillows fluffy. Then of course there is Portia herself. Her energy is gravitational, just as her mistress’s is and when you are in her orbit, it is not so easy to just leave. 

“I am so exhausted,” she says with a yawn as she lets her hair down, takes off her worn black shoes, and sits down beside me. I don’t know what was up with Nadia today but she was extra demanding. My feet are killing me.” 

“She did have plenty for you to do, that’s for sure. I’m sorry you’re hurting.” 

“Thanks.” She twirls a swirling strand of red hair in her fingers, then blushes “Would it be weird if… I mean, would you maybe mind… Rubbing them for me?” 

My heartbeat picks up its pace. “What? Your feet?” 

“Yes. Would you mind? They’re always so sore after the day and it messes everything else up: my hips, my back. If I could just get one good foot rub it would be such a relief." 

I know I shouldn’t do this, that this is not appropriate given my relationship with her Countess. But then, that countess’s own words haunt me again: _’give her anything she wants…’_ “Alright,” I say, setting my beer aside. “I’ll see what I can do.” 

Portia stretches and puts her feet in my lap: her beautiful little feet that I’ve been trying hard not to look at since she took her shoes off. They are the feet I would expect Portia to have: small, pale, slightly chubby but with wonderful curves, and very, very cute. It almost feels like I am not worthy to touch them. But when my fingers make contact with the soft, warm flesh of the sole of her right foot, Portia immediately melts with pleasure. 

“Oh _yes,”_ she purrs. “This is exactly what I’ve needed. Yes, thank you _so much.”_

Encouraged, I rub her dainty foot a bit harder, thoroughly working relief into the overtaxed bones. I take extra care to soothe the tight tendons that run along the top and I carefully work every single joint of her tired toes. Portia practically writhes at the soothing sensations of my touch. 

“You’re so good. You’re amazing. I’m sorry my feet are so sweaty, and smelly, and gross.” 

“They’re not. There’s nothing ever gross about you. Ever.” 

After ten minutes of good, solid work I switch to her left foot and Portia starts cooing with delight all over again. She lays with her eyes closed, murmuring like she is in a happy dream. I, however, am more than awake. Because this process, this prolonged contact with her is doing no favors for my perpetually stimulated state. I never imagined I’d get this turned on touching a woman’s feet, but here I am. I just hope Portia doesn’t notice. 

About six minutes into massaging her left foot that hope goes down the drain. Portia stretches, repositioning herself and the movement brings the toes of her right foot in contact with the full-strength erection uncomfortably constrained by my trousers. 

“Oh my. What’s _this?_ Is this what I think it is?” 

She wiggles her toes against my painfully hard cock and a quiet, involuntary moan leaves my lips. 

“Yeah,” she says, impishly satisfied. “That’s what I think it is. Here, you’ve been rubbing me. Let me rub you.” 

She pulls her left foot out of my hands and presses her sole against my hard organ, lightly squeezing it with her wonderful toes. “Is that good?” she asks. 

No, it _can’t_ be good. I can’t let it. “Portia…” 

“No, no. This is fine, I promise. You’ve been making me feel good. Let me make you feel good.” 

“Portia, we can’t do this.” 

“Oh, be quiet and let me rub your cock with my feet.” 

And even though I know it’s wrong, I do. She doesn’t actually do much. But then, she doesn’t have to. Just holding her five toes against my straining shaft is heavenly for me, and the urge to rub myself against them is not easily withstood. 

“Nadia sure has done a number on you, hasn’t she? Just look at how pent up you are? I’m pretty sure this isn’t healthy. How long have you been this hard?” 

”Feels like I’m rarely not hard… Anymore…” I can’t concentrate. 

“Nadia shouldn’t waste it, then.” 

No, she shouldn’t. It’s a mean, selfish thought and I shouldn’t be doing this with her servant that she trusts so much. But I didn’t start this, Portia did, and I feel like I have earned the right to enjoy it. 

“This can’t be doing very much for you. I could do a lot better if you take your cock out.” 

Portia actually winks at me as she says it. I can’t explain why I find this incredibly sexy. But my instinct is to obey and I move her feet away only as long as it takes to expose my neglected organ to the careful ministrations her divine toes. It is a feeling unlike any other kind of sexual stimulation I have felt in my admittedly limited sexual experience, and I let myself fully submit to it, becoming putty in Portia’s hands. Or feet, as the case may be. 

“I guess I’m doing a good job, judging by the way you’re throbbing. I hope so. I’ve never done this before.” 

“That’s okay,” I pant. “I’ve never had it done.” 

“Again, sorry my feet are sweaty, smelly, and gross.” 

I refuse to let her deprecate her amazing feet in any way, and I demonstrate this by lifting her right foot to my mouth and respectfully kissing her toes. But of course, kissing turns to licking, and licking turns to more than a little bit of sucking. This really gets Portia squirming. 

“Sorry. Ticklish?” 

_”Sensitive._ Apparently having that done does things for me. I didn’t even know. Hold on, I think I need to multi-task.” 

She grips my cock with both of her feet once again and slips her right hand down the front of her lilac-hued harem pants, sighing in relief as she begins to fulfill her own need. Multi-tasking eases her endeavors on my erection, however, and I am able to just admire her beautiful feet and how, for the moment, they are mine to enjoy. I also admire her pale, toned calves and the soft, red hairs that adorn them. She is not just the kind of girl I’d normally go after, she is like the ideal version of her. Not just in her body, but her soul and presence as well. In that moment, I am no longer satisfied with the soles of her feet. I must have more of her; all of her. And she lets me have it, not even hesitating to assist me in sliding her billowy pants down off her hips that I may discard them. I finish removing my own clothing as she lifts her blouse up over her head. 

But Portia has less clothing to remove and is much faster than I. My own shirt is halfway over my head when I feel her mouth – known for its girlish, mischievous smile – wrap around my erection, taking me almost down to the base. I look down to see her gorgeous blue eyes gazing up to me with longing and lust and I can’t help but grab handfuls of her thick, red curls and guide her as she pleases me. At this point my cock has to be absolutely covered with the sweat of her feet that made her so self-conscious, but it doesn’t seem to bother her now. She sucks me so well, and I hope I convey during the prolonged eye contact throughout it just how much it means to me. 

“Nadia’s missing out,” she pauses to say before sliding her tongue back and forth on the underside of my root. 

“That’s not our problem.” 

“No,” she confirms, swiping the very tip of her tongue through the opening at the tip of my cock. “It is not.” 

She pauses to smile up at me and I seize the opportunity to playfully shove her onto her back. I was neglectful earlier and only kissed and sucked her right foot. I make up for it now, cradling the heel of her left and drawing her toes to my lips, worshipping them as they deserve and making their own giggle and squirming as I kiss, suckle, and adore them. Portia writhes, but she struggles to endure it and not pull away. 

I meant it when I told her nothing about her was gross. In fact, I could feast on her sweat and her smell forever. But she has tastes and smells I haven’t even tried yet and I can think of no reason to delay. It is difficult to be patient, but I want her to anticipate as I kiss my way up her wonderful calf with its fluff of downy scarlet hairs, up her fleshy thigh, and then into the hot and musky passage that lies between. 

Portia cries out, her hands twisting the coverlet as I kiss my way into her. I quickly locate and lavish attention upon her slick and stiff little pearl. I am ashamed to admit that I do not consider this my particular forte, and that is why I am surprised when I quickly eat her to a loud and extended orgasm. 

Perhaps I am not the only one who has been enduring days and nights of uncomfortable arousal without sweet release. Perhaps Portia has been pent up too. Her climax releases some of it, but not all of it by far. She greets me as I rise up with playful, affectionate eyes. 

“Are you going to fuck me now?” 

I answer by way of insertion. While she kisses me hungrily, eager to taste herself from my lips, I press my sex into hers. Portia is forced to break our kiss in a deep gasp. At first I fear that there is discomfort from my size. I don’t brag or talk about it, but it is substantial and I try to use it gently for the comfort of my partners. But the look of gratitude that comes over Portia’s freckled face tells me she is no pain, just glad to finally have an itch she has suffered for a long time scratched. 

“Does it feel good?” I inquire after a few minutes of slow, deep thrusts. 

“You can fuck me harder.” 

How nice to finally be asked that. How perfect that Portia is the one asking. And so I begin punishing her pussy with all the force my big cock can dish out. Or so I think. 

_“HARDER!_

The bed starts shaking and pillows start falling off. I have to grab Portia’s legs and yank her to me with each thrust, just so I can give her the fast, brutal fucking that she craves. I’m not the most athletic person, and I know I can’t sustain this pace. But I don’t have to. Portia starts to cum again; loudly and repeatedly. My Nadia’s beautiful servant is cumming on my cock! She is cumming for _me._ Because I wanted her to and I made it happen. I want her so much… 

“Portia,” I gasp in the wake of her climax. “I’m going to cum.” 

“Yes,” she sighs. “Please.” 

Not only is there no mention of me pulling out, but she actively prevents it, wrapping her strong little legs around my back and trapping me within her as my orgasm begins. I know Portia can feel me cumming inside her. She gasps with each pulse of my cock as my seed fills her womb. I haven’t orgasmed in such a long time and it shows. When Portia finally allows me to pull all the way out the post-coital wet spot that forms on her coverlet is the biggest I’ve ever seen. Portia’s immediate concerns are a bit more practical. 

“I’m going to be walking funny tomorrow,” she says with a laugh as I snuggle against her and wrap her in my embrace. 

“I’m sorry to hear that. I guess massaging your feet was all for nothing.” 

“Oh not at all. My feet feel a whole _lot_ better!” 

The last thing I recall feeling as I fall asleep beside her is the sensation of the sole of her foot rubbing up and down my leg, guiding me to dreams of eroticism of Portia herself. When I awaken in her cottage the next morning the low-grade lust I’ve had to endure is as strong as it ever was. 

It is a difficult thing, sneaking back into my room in the palace the next morning without being seen. I am fortunate that Portia knows so many secret ways through the corridors and grounds. But I make it there, wash and make myself as presentable as I can, and am more than ready when My Lady bids me join her for coffee in her bedchamber. 

When I meet the Countess of Vesuvia she is dressed impeccably as always in an ornate lavender gown. Gemstones adorn her fingers and a headpiece of precious metal crowns her gorgeous mane of purple hair. Her dark red eyes regard me with the same mix of coquettish flirtation and stately power that I have grown so enchanted with in the days that have passed. We pass small talk easily enough. She slept well. But when she finally sets her coffee cup down and rises to go look out one of her room’s many windows I know that the time has come to discuss important matters of state. 

“The matters at hand are serious indeed,” she says. 

“Tell me what is happening, My Lady,” I say as I rise to stand behind her. “Tell me so I can aid you in it.” 

I can see her ruby smile reflected faintly in the glass. Then, she turns her head, regarding me with one sly, amused eye. “There is no delicate way to say this, I am afraid. I must repeat it in the coarse terms with which it was relayed to me. A report has reached me this morning that you fucked the shit out of Portia last night.” 

My spine turns cold and I’m at a loss for words. “My Lady…” 

“You can relax, Magician. It was Portia herself who told me. Just like I asked her to.” 

Nadia turns fully toward me and crosses the short distance between us. “I am told that sweet Portia did quite skillful things with her feet; that multiple orgasms occurred and that even a messy creampie was involved. Is this true?” 

“My Lady, I can explain…” 

“Of course you can,” she assures, those wonderful, supple fingers tracing lines on my chest. “But you don’t have to. I told you to give Portia whatever she wanted.” 

Her lips draw closer to mine. “I told her that as a reward for her faithful service and friendship to me that she should treat herself to a fuck from you.” 

Closer still. “I told you to treat her as you would me…” 

And then she has pulled away like the temptress that she is. “I must say, I was not expecting everything that took place. Is that how you would like to treat me? Would you like to feel my feet wrapped around your hard, thick cock?” 

I have to break decorum. There is no way I can’t. I rush to the Countess and wrap my arm around her waist, pulling her against me, making her feel the hardness and thickness of the cock that she has apparently heard so much about. 

“It turns you on, doesn’t it? It turned you on knowing I was fucking your serving girl, didn’t it?” 

She leans back, but only so that I can be teased be her smile and her fingers caressing my throat. “Portia is far more than a serving girl to me. And yes, it did turn me on.” 

“Why do you deny me so?” 

“Why? You want to know why, Magician? Because I knew exactly how good you were going to make Portia feel last night, and when it is finally time for us to abandon propriety and indulge our desires I want to feel _one hundred times that!”_

Now it is I who teases my fingers across her ruby lips. “It sounds like I need to keep fucking her, then. I need to keep fucking her and driving you crazy!” 

She grinds her long, lithe thigh against my erection and I struggle not to shudder at the arousing contact. “Yes,” she says. “Clearly you should.” 

“So what now?” 

“Now, my magician? Now?” Those kissable lips draw nearer, ever nearer to mine until a slip of paper could not fit between hers and mine. And then my Nadia slips from my grasp and spins away from me like the tantalizing dream that she is. 

“Now, we get back to work. We solve my husband’s murder and get back to saving my city.” 

She begins striding toward the doors that lead out into her palace and the danger and intrigue of her world. I fall in behind her. 

“We will need Portia’s help, of course. I suspect her feet are going to be very tired again by the end of the day." 

Her lovely scarlet eye flashes over her shoulder again, accompanied by an utterly wicked grin. “As, I suspect, you will want them to be.”


End file.
